


Pushing Limits

by Marrilyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Apologies, Dom Rowena MacLeod, F/F, Fear, Foreplay, Girls Kissing, Guilt, Hair-pulling, Kissing, Magic, Panic, Spells & Enchantments, Tears, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:13:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Rowena accidentally scares reader.





	Pushing Limits

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fic came from a story OswinTheStrange and I were making up. Some of the dialogue lines were written by her.

There were few things you loved more than getting Rowena all worked up and aching to take you any way she saw fit. It was a game the two of you often played; one would engage in teasing, and the other would would "snap" after a certain period of time and take control.

Tonight, you were the one in charge of teasing.

With each mock insult that left your mouth, a new rush of adrenaline shot through your veins. Desire burned bright hot within you, insides all but turned to mush. Rowena glared at you, features twisted in a look of tranquil fury. You could see traces of a smile playing on her lips and playful sparks glinting in her eyes. She was good at pretend, but you were even better at noticing signs of deception. You knew that she could never truly hate you. Even when you argued, you'd never seen even a speck of genuine malice on her face or felt it in the tone of her voice.

It was why you loved this game so much. You could be the absolute worst to her, and she, in turn, could do the meanest, naughtiest things to you, and you would both enjoy it to the fullest. There wouldn't be a single drop of bad blood between you.

"Last warning,  _ dear," _ Rowena said, hissing the last word like a snake spewing out venom. Her eyes met yours, intense, threatening, her gaze burrowing its way to your very core. Challenging you. Daring you. Practically begging you to cross the line.

You were more than happy to oblige.

"Or what? You'll throw a fit?  _ 'I'm a three-hundred-year-old baby. All I do is whine and cry and throw tantrums' cause I'm a spoiled brat!'" _ You almost laughed at your whiny imitation of her voice, a small chuckle escaping you at the look that threatened bloody murder settling on her face.

You had struck a nerve.

Rowena shifted to her side with a huff so loud you expected to see steam blow out of her nose and threw her leg over you, straddling you. You mouthed another smartass response, but before words could leave your mouth, she spat out a spell, trapping them in your throat. Your lips moved, but instead of mock insults, the only thing that greeted the witch on top of you was silence.

You narrowed your eyes, and Rowena smirked. "You were saying?" she asked, voice dripping with wickedness equaling that in her gaze. Once an evil witch, always an evil witch. She may have quit harming people for fun, but her bedside manner remained just as it was when you'd first met her.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

And she knew that. She knew  _ you _ all too well.

You mumbled a silent, "Bitch" and, hating to hear no sound, not even a whisper, you pouted.

While Rowena's pouts held enough influence to make you do just about anything she wanted, yours had no effect on her. She was around for a while; unless you were sick and really in need, she wouldn't let herself fall for feeble attempts at manipulation. Though, given the look on her face, she did admire the effort. She laughed. "What was that, dear? I can't quite hear you."

You scowled and grit your teeth together, puffing like a child who'd just gotten their favorite toy taken away. Rowena's smile only widened at your displays of anger. She watched you like a predator observing its prey, amusement growing with each passing second. She was enjoying this; enjoying being in control and having you at her mercy, enjoying you getting worked up over something she did. She had made you react, with anger mixed with desire blooming deep inside of you, and she couldn't have been more proud.

You wanted her as much as you wanted to hate her for making you weak and all but helpless. But even if she was hurting you for real, if she'd taken your voice away for good out of the wickedness of her heart, you couldn't hate her. Rowena knew your limits, just as you knew hers. She would push them, but she wouldn't cross them — not without your explicit permission. She had as much control as you allowed, and she respected it. She respected  _ you.  _ And because of that, you could never be genuinely mad at her.

Which didn't mean you couldn't push her limits the way she'd pushed yours.

You flashed her a smirk and, in a swift, practiced movement, your hand was in her hair, fingers tangled in the thick, silky curls. Grabbing a handful, you pulled tightly. Rowena hissed as her head was yanked back. She glared at you and you smiled triumphantly, as if you had just won the lottery. Two could play this game.

Excitement rushed through you like a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. As much as you enjoyed Rowena being in control, what you enjoyed even more was you getting the upper hand. Nothing could compare to rush that came with knowledge that this woman, one of the most powerful witches in the world, was yours to do as you pleased with. Anyone else would regret even looking at her the wrong way. You, on the other hand, had the privilege to push her around and hurt her to your heart's content, and the worst punishment you'd get would be a delayed orgasm.

"You'll regret this," Rowena hissed.

You could only snort in response. You were waiting for her to say that.  _ Bring it, _ you thought, looking her in the eyes in a challenge.  _ Do your worst. _

You hadn't expected her to do it literally.

A single Latin word fell from her lips and you instantly released her. Your hand fell to the bed, limp, motionless, like a doll whose strings had been cut.

And no matter how many times you willed it to go back up again, it wouldn't move.

As if led by a flip of a switch, all excitement that had been building up inside of you died in a split second, dissipating into nothingness. Panic rose up in your stomach, spreading to your heart and settling in your eyes. They widened, the only part of your body you still had control of, shock and turmoil coiling inside of them like a tornado.

You tried to move your hand again and your mind screamed with terror at finding it still. You could feel your fingers, could feel the warmth of blood pumping through your veins as your frightened heart jumped in beats, one after the other, as rushed as your breathing. You could feel the color draining from your cheeks. You could feel your arms, and your legs and toes, and every other part of your body. They were there, healthy, unharmed, still attached to you.

But you couldn't move them. Not a single part, aside from your eyes.

_ No. _

Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried and tried and tried, and failed every single time. But no matter how much effort you put into moving your fingers and wiggling your toes, they remained as still as that of a corpse. Spelled dead, locked away from you like a phone taken away from an unruly teenager.

_ No! No, no, no! _

You were trapped in your own body, more helpless than you'd ever been. You felt like a parasite who'd slithered inside the wrong host and found itself trapped in a neverending nightmare, with nothing to set it free.

Nothing but  _ her. _

Your eyes locked with Rowena's and tears spilled down your cheeks in a bitter downpour.  _ Please,  _ your gaze begged.  _ Undo this. _

Instead, she laughed. "I'm not going to fall for that," she said.

She thought you were teasing her.

_ No. _

You blinked rapidly, trying to tell her that you weren't. This wasn't a game; it had stopped being so the moment she'd cast the spell. The fear, the panic — they were real. You knew Rowena would never hurt you on purpose, but that didn't make the situation any less terrifying. Your body had become a prison and it would stay that way until she decided that it was enough.

It was already more than enough for you.

_ Please. Please! _

More tears fell, and your vision blurred, as if someone had laid a light, see-through veil over your eyes.

_ Please, let me out! _

Your breathing fastened, quick intakes of air burning at your nose. Your mouth was an unmovable line, but on the inside, you were screaming. All thoughts cleared from your head, words and images chased away by a shriek that ripped through your mind like that of a banshee. You could almost hear the ringing in your ears, deep and piercing and so damn loud, as if it was real.

If only it could be real.

_ Rowena, please, let me out! _ you pleaded in-between screams, pouring all your dread into your gaze — your only way of communication.  _ Please! Please! Let me out! Please! _

For a few long moments, Rowena just stared.

Then all amusement drained from her face as reality of the situation settled in.

You weren't faking. You were genuinely scared.

Her eyes widened, features twisting into shock almost equal to your own. She spat out a spell, a word as lone as all the others, and suddenly, the invisible weight that had been holding you down lifted off of you. Your limbs sprang to life, awakened like nature in spring, strong and palpable and so, so  _ yours _ once again. A deep, long breath tore from the depth of your throat. You started panting as if you'd just ran a marathon, your heart beating fast in solidarity with your starved lungs.

You were back. Your body had become yours once again.

You straightened up into a sitting position, gulping down breath after breath as if they were food and you'd been starved for days. Your lungs burned under the intense intake, but you couldn't stop — you didn't  _ want _ to stop. It felt so good to be able to breathe through your mouth again, to use your lips to gasp rather than beg for them to scream. 

You wrapped your arms around your chest. Your fingers dug into the soft skin of your shoulders, soaking up in the feeling of your own warmth. You were alive. Your limbs were alive. You weren't a stranger in your own body, a stranded parasite locked up in the darkness and destined to spend the rest of its life motionless, watching the world through eyes that were more dead than alive — not anymore. The confirmation was comforting, and you started to relax.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Rowena asked. You looked up at her. Her face was drenched with fear. Pain had settled in her eyes and filled them with tears she didn't dare let fall. She looked just as she had sounded — as if she was holding up the weight of guilt the entire world had burdened her with, and she was trying her hardest not to fall apart under the pressure.

"I'm fine," you replied. Traces of fear still lingered within you, but they were dissipating with each new breath you were taking.

Rowena's lower lip quivered, and a few tears slid down her face. "I'm  _ so _ sorry," she said, and she couldn't have been more genuine. She rarely apologized, and when she did, you knew she meant it. It was one of the first things about her real self she'd let you see all those years ago — the capacity to realize and acknowledge her mistakes, even if it broke her to do so. She didn't have it in her to hurt you. Not on purpose.  _ Never  _ on purpose. And if it happened, she wanted you to know that she regretted it.

You had given her a chance to prove that she was more than an evil witch she'd presented herself as.

She, in turn, had given you the chance to get to know the real her.

"I know," you said.

"I didn't mean…"

"I know."

If there was one thing you were sure of, it was that she was no threat to you. As powerful and dangerous as she was, she would never do anything to harm you.

"I promise you," Rowena said through tears, voice trembling with each spoken word. "I didn't—"

"I know, sweetheart," you cut her off. You reached for her hand and threaded fingers through hers. She held on for dear life, as if this were the last time she would see you. As if she was frightened that she had lost you. "It's okay. I'm okay."

You squeezed her hand back to emphasize your words. Your heart broke at the absolute desperation on her face. How had one mistake — as terrifying for you as it was — managed to upset her this much? How had it managed to hurt her even more than it had hurt you?

"Relax. Nothing happened," you added. Nothing that couldn't be fixed, anyway. Besides, it wasn't as if she'd done it with the intention of hurting you. She was pushing limits, the same way she always had — the same way  _ you _ had. She had no way of knowing that she would scare you.

"I hurt you," Rowena whimpered. The remnant of a stifled sob fell from her lips in the form of a whimper. "I hurt everyone I love."

"That's not true." Maybe in the past, but not anymore. She'd learned from her mistakes. She couldn't fix her wrongdoings, but she could do better in the future. And so far she was doing great.

She shook her head. "It is. I thought I could redeem myself, but I can't. I keep hurting people."

"Hey, hey." You cupped her cheeks with both hands and looked her straight in the red, teary eyes. You wanted to weep at the sight of her, so broken and fragile, like a wounded animal begging for mercy, but you pushed it back. There would be time for tears later. "Don't say that. This was just a mistake, nothing else. It had nothing to do with your redemption — which is going great, by the way — or anything else."

Her gaze intensified, and it took all your self-restraint not to fall apart alongside her. "I made you afraid."

"Not of you," you assured her. "I panicked. You kinda took me by surprise, that's all. But I was never scared of you." Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead to hers, the tip of your nose brushing against hers. "I swear, Rowena. I'm okay. Just don't do it again."

She clasped her hand over yours. "Never again. I promise you, darling."

You nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead as you parted from her, then your eyes met hers once again. "No more tears, okay?"

She nodded.

"Lemme see that pretty smile." She stared at you, uncertain. You shot her a smile of your own. "Come on. I wanna see it."

She remained still, contemplating whether to give in. Rowena was a stubborn creature. She did what she wanted, when she wanted. You were one of the few people she listened to, but even so, she rarely obeyed without making you work for it, one way or the other — be it with a kiss or pleas that sometimes reached the point of desperation. She was a tease; a naughty, playful tease that loved to push your buttons almost as much as she loved you.

After a moment that felt like eternity, Rowena's lips widened into a bright, beautiful smile far out-shining that on your mouth. It was one of those smiles she saved for rare occurrences, that only few select people had been privileged to see. A sign of trust that you had sworn never to lose.

You beamed, all previous unease fading in favor is joy. Things were alright again, events from from minutes ago forgotten in favor of warm smiles. This was the way it was supposed to be for the two of you — happiness all around, smiles and touches and love suppressing the harsh reality of life. In moments like these, there were no painful flashbacks and frightened body lockdowns. There was only her and you, and the love that you shared. Those were the only things that mattered, the only things that truly made sense in this twisted world. The only things worth fighting for.

"There you go," you cooed, caressing her cheek. She melted under your touch, soaking in your gentle warmth. "Don't you ever be scared of hurting me. I'm not made of glass. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Whatever happens," you continued, "we can get through it. But don't ever doubt yourself. If anyone deserves redemption, it's you. You've worked so hard for it. Small mistakes don't take away from that. So don't worry, okay?"

Another nod.

"You'll always be my girl, no matter what."

"Bloody sap," she said, eyes brimming with tears again — those of joy instead of guilt.

You chuckled. "You love me for it."

"How could I not?"

And with that her lips crashed into yours and you surrendered to the kiss that sent electric sparks all through your body, wild and unpredictable, as magical as as the witch who'd bestowed it on you herself.

Even if hell froze over. Even if sky rained fire. Even if the world turned upside down and inside out, one fact would remain unchained.

Rowena was yours, and you were hers. In sickness and health. In life and death. For worse and for better.

Forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by my lovely partner in crime OswinTheStrange.


End file.
